"It's open!" Zico declared, his voice low and even, as he sprang from the rooftop with the grace of a panther. His movements belied the excitement in his eyes, his calm exterior hiding a maelstrom of anticipation.
Zico sprinted past the soldiers like a ghost, leaving them scrambling to react. By the time they spun around, he had already vanished into the shimmering portal.
"Damn it, this is not going to end well for any of us!" one soldier growled, his voice laced with dread. He cautiously approached the glowing portal, his eyes fixed on the swirling colors
"Congratulations, you'll be the first to meet your maker!" another soldier sneered, his voice dripping with malice
"Shut up, nothing happened, no one will breathe a word to the commander," a third soldier hissed, but his reassurance was cut short. A mysterious figure emerged from the shadows, his grip like a vice as he grasped the soldier's shoulder.
"No need to worry, I'll slaughter every human in there and claim this world for the States," he vowed, his voice low and menacing:
"Let's get this done," he snarled, before launching himself into the portal. Half of the soldiers followed, their faces set with determination, while the others remained behind, guarding the portal with their lives.
When Zico emerged from the portal, he found himself plummeting through a dark, stormy sky. Lightning flashed recklessly around him as he expertly maneuvered through the turbulent air. As soon as he entered this new world, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him. Before he could even touch down, Zico summoned his daggers and landed gracefully on the ground, his impact sending shockwaves through the earth beneath him. Gazing up at the tempestuous sky, he wondered:
"What is going on? Why does this place feel so familiar?" With a sense of urgency, he took off in a sprint, aware that someone might be following close behind. The landscape around him was a dense forest, and finding shelter from the torrential rain would be a challenge.
Zico's legs burned as he sprinted through the torrential downpour, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had been running for what felt like an eternity, yet the dense forest seemed to stretch on forever, offering no respite from the deluge. Memories of the Sword Rains, a legendary tempest of razor-sharp precipitation, flooded his mind, and he knew he had to find shelter before it was too late. Just as he thought he'd finally find a reprieve, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Zico's instincts screamed warning as he recognized the familiar form, his eyes narrowing as he watched from the darkness. The figure seemed weakened, their movements labored, yet Zico's gut told him this was no stranger. He steeled himself and burst into a sprint, intercepting the figure with a suddenness that made them jump back.
As the rain-soaked stranger regained their footing, Zico's eyes locked onto a face he thought he'd never see again, Mark. The shock was like a punch to the gut. How did Mark survive the impossible odds? What was he doing in this place? Zico's mind reeled, but he didn't have time for questions. With a swift motion, he unsheathed his daggers and charged at Mark, ready to strike.
Mark's duplicate stood frozen, its gaze fixed on the fleeing Mark, before suddenly recalling the terror of the Sword Rain. It too began to move away, its movements slow and labored, but as it kept running, it didn't seem to find a place to protect it. In desperation, it started following Mark, but the rain continued to fall relentlessly, and Mark had vanished into thin air:
"Damn that human!" it cursed, before proceeding to run, but after a few minutes of exhausting sprinting, it became extremely tired. Its energy depleted, it felt like it couldn't move anymore, but its shelter was close by, so it continued walking, its movements sluggish.
Though the human body was powerful, it had its disadvantages when exhausted. The duplicate pushed on, its senses dulled, but then it detected a strange presence. It chose to ignore it, but suddenly, someone appeared in front of it. The duplicate jumped back instinctively, its eyes fixated on the newcomer. The lad gazed at the duplicate for a moment before launching a swift attack.
The duplicate swiftly materialized a black scythe and slashed at Zico with deadly precision, forcing him to leap back to avoid the blow.
"How did you survive, Mark?" Zico snarled, his eyes narrowing with a mix of surprise and fury:
"It doesn't really matter, because I'll kill you myself!" But before he could lunge at the duplicate, it was already attacking, its movements swift and flawless.
The rain fell in sheets, the sky growing darker by the minute, as if the very heavens themselves were conspiring against Zico. He stumbled back, his eyes fixed on the duplicate in disbelief. When did Mark's fighting skills become this refined? This flawless? Zico had become a Level Four Knight, and yet he couldn't keep up with the duplicate's lightning fast attacks.
"What is this place?" Zico muttered to himself, his mind racing with questions. How did Mark gain such power? And what was the source of its strength?
Just as Zico was about to launch a counterattack, he shouted:
"Armorment!"
a massive red light burst forth, enveloping him in its radiant glow. When the light dissipated, Zico found had transformed into a knight, clad in red and black armor that fit his body like a second skin. He held two gleaming daggers in his hands, their blades etched with intricate runes that pulsed with power.
The lightning from the portal in the sky intensified, as if responding to Zico's newfound abilities. The air crackled with energy, and Zico felt his strength and speed amplified, his senses heightened to superhuman levels. He charged forward, his daggers flashing in the dim light.
The battle raged on, the two combatants exchanging blows that shook the very foundations of the forest. The rain continued to fall, the sky growing darker by the minute, as if the storm itself was a manifestation of their clashing powers.